Disdain [Dabi x Reader]

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A/N: A33333 I'M SO SORRYY ,GENUINELY. I feel so bad for not updating for so long 😭😭😭 I was preoccupied with my exams, and literally don't even have time for myself anymore. I'm going to finish my exams on juneee so I'll have a lot of free time to write then, and even now, I'll make some effort to put out something :)

*FIRST PERSON P.O.V

'They fucked up their life.

'They made it so far in their career and decided to throw all the effort, all the hard work, all the money their parents spent on their education out the window. Their parents' gave them all the time, care, and love in the world only for them to wind up turning into this mental, blood-thirsty lunatic.'

That's what people always think, and I couldn't agree more. I was a good person, I had a stable childhood, I had loving parents, and I had so many opportunities that many weren't fortunate enough to have.

I seized those opportunities rightfully on behalf of those who couldn't, on behalf of my parents who'd give up their everything for me, and on behalf of myself, as well.

I did what I loved while also making everyone around me proud. I worked hard, was top of my school, worked my ass off to get into the greatest college in Japan, got into medical school, specialized in dermatology, and mastered one of the rarest, longest, and hardest medical procedures: Transportive skin grafting.

Then I killed a patient, a hero, and caused an explosion in the hospital on that same day, leading to many deaths and injuries.

I basically tore down everything I built and devoted my life to with my two, bear hands.

And for what? Just because I had a single bad day?

What people never acknowledge is that it, in fact, didn't only take one bad day. It took years and years of pent-up frustration and anger for me to finally reach my breaking point. I hadn't had a single good day since the day I entered college.

But I was patient, I thought that once I was finally done with medical school, I could find a stable job, somewhere nice, and help people there.

But I was so wrong. I was so terribly wrong, I sometimes laugh at how naive I was back then.

The continuous mistreatment I endured while being a resident doctor was quite baffling. I was criticized by most of my seniors. Rarely even when I was so obviously right about a patient's health.

I remembered when a patient died because of the ignorance of one of my seniors. He chose to dismiss all my concerns, even the patient's concerns, just because he thought he was so professional and mature, and we were purely paranoid.

What about after I stopped being a junior doctor? What then?

Well, life started to get better to a degree. It didn't take long for people to start respecting me. They started holding me in high regard and many knew me for my honest work. I was able to save plenty of lives and made a number of friends.

It was going great.

but it was getting worse at the same time.

Reality started to dawn on me.

The reality of this society. And its horror; it's utter selfishness.

I was able to save plenty, but there were as many who slipped right through my grasp. Even though they were right before me, even though I had the ability to save them.

But it wasn't that I didn't or couldn't. It was that I wasn't allowed to perform the surgery.

The cost of transportive skin grafting was extremely high, and I had no power over it. Most people can't even afford a quarter of the operation. Mostly because it's extremely rare for people to donate their skin, even rarer than heart donors.

I remember pleading with the higher-ups to allow me to perform the surgery on a small boy who had flown all the way to Japan from a war-bound region. They didn't even bat an eye at me.

"Why do I look like this?!"

"Sorry?" I blinked at the hero. The man sat before me in a wheelchair, a mirror in his hands as he stared into his reflection, his eyes wide with rage. The mirror started to shake as his grip tightened around the handle.

"You said this surgery would fix my face!" He yelled, slamming one of his fists on the chair handle.

"As much as possible, yes, however, I'm sure I made it clear that it wouldn't fully restore your facial features, some outlines and bumps on the border of the stitches may be visible even after the skin has fully adapted to your body," I stated, quilling back my bitter expression. "And it sti-"

"LOOK AT ME!" He howled. A gasp escaped my lungs and I swiftly leaped out of the way as he hurled the mirror at me with full force. The mirror collided with the wall, shattering and creating a deep dent in the wall. I stared down at the broken mirror in alarm. "THIS DOESN'T EVEN LOOK LIKE ME!"

His face was still inflamed where the incisions were made, which were practically covering 90% of his face. I frowned at him.

"You're still not even halfway through your recovery." I took a deep breath. "Sir, you will start to see a significant improvement in at least 3 weeks, and it will only get better from there, I assure you." I forced a smile.

"3 weeks?! You've got to be kidding me...! I have a conference with the press tomorrow morning! What are my fans going to think of me when I look like this?!" He spat, snarling up at me. I grimaced for a split-second then replaced my grimace with an apologetic smile.

"Well, I'm sure they'll find your postprocedure scars a symbol of respect. As you risked your life to save those civilians-"

"TO HELL WITH THOSE CIVILIANS!! I WISH THEY WOULD'VE BURNT TO DEATH IN THAT BUILDING!" He barked. My eyes blew wide, taken aback by his blunt response. I continued to stare into his pungent gaze, utterly speechless. "I wish they would've died before I even arrived at the scene. I WISH THAT BUILDING WOULD'VE JUST COLLAPSED AND CRUSHED THEM!!"

He continued ranting about what vile things he wished the civilians would've gone through. I couldn't do anything but gawk at him in sheer horror, my lips parting and then clamping shut as I tried to think of anything to say.

"AND YOU!" He grabbed a vase from his side and chucked it my way. This time, I didn't have much time to react and the vase hit my head. The vase broke on contact and I stumbled back from the force, letting out a loud grunt. I held my hand over my head as I felt blood trickle down my face. "YOU SCAMMED ME DIDN'T YOU!?!? YOU FILTHY WITCH! I KNEW IT WAS TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE! YOU PEOPLE ALWAYS ACT LIKE YOU'RE SO PROFESSIONAL AND KNOW EVERYTHING AND CAN FIX EVERYTHING BUT YOU'RE ALL FULL OF SHIT!!"

My expression of shock slowly faded. I felt something in me change, like nothing mattered anymore and the world had unveiled its true malicious nature at last, it was as if the impact of the vase had caused something to shift in my brain.

"TRUST ME, ONCE I'M OUT OF THIS PLACE YOU BET I'LL SUE THE EVER LOVING SHIT OUT OF YOU AND THIS WHOLE GODFORSAKEN DUMBPERFIRE-" His words started sounding incoherent to me as my quirk activated. I could feel his heart pace with fury, a sinister aroma sounding from the rhythm of his heartbeat. I removed my hand from my head and stared down at it, leering at the traces of blood tainting my palm. "-YOU GOOD FOR NOTHING-"

"shut up." I outstretched my arm in front of him, my hand flexed open to showcase my open palm smeared with crimson fluid. I felt a chill creep down my spine before I twisted my hand in the air. His neck snapped and his pulse fell silent.